There's a breeze blowing, and when I look out the window the day looks inviting, with all the leaves waving, but when I open the door I'm struck by a wall of heat even greater than the heat in the house. I keep thinking how nice it would be to sit in the shade feeling the breeze, but the reality is that it's a furnace out there, even under the trees. It's going to keep getting hotter until Sunday, and Sunday's slight cooling won't bring any indoor respite as the nocturnal low Saturday night is expected to be 75 degrees. I'll be lucky to get the house below the mid-80s by the end of that night, unless I use the air conditioner. It's going to feel like the town has been transported to Iowa. Except we won't get any fireflies.
Now I wish I'd bought a watermelon when I went shopping, even though they are still terribly expensive. I'm not sure I'll even want anything hot for dinner tonight, but I'm low on salad greens, and there's nothing for making sandwiches but peanut butter, and that's what I had for lunch.
People are moving into the house on the corner, which has been vacant for about three years. It looks like they have two dogs, both looking a bit bedraggled today. Portia will be very unhappy. That empty yard was one of her favorite haunts. Now she's likely to get chased by dogs as soon as she goes over the fence.
A little while ago I saw the shadows of two large hawks who have often been flying over the neighborhood recently. I still haven't gotten a glimpse of the hawks themselves, as they always manage to vanish behind the trees or nearby rooftops before I can find them. The shadows zipping across the pavement looked to have wingspans of about four feet, though. Smaller birds who were about all dove for cover when the hawks passed. I take cover when hawks pass, too. If birds that size were to let some droppings loose while overhead, the results could be massively unpleasant. It's bad enough being crapped on by pigeons.